Today marks 19 days and counting.

While I’m still currently employed and supporting AI Governance at CVS Health, I’m deep in the grind—searching for the next opportunity. This is, without a doubt, one of the hardest seasons of my life. And yeah, there’s never a great time to be job hunting, but this? This is brutal.

I’ve applied to a mountain of roles. Rejection after rejection. I’m not sure if it’s the ATS filtering me out, or if I’m just one of a thousand others clicking “Apply Now” on the same damn job. Meanwhile, job reports keep insisting things are looking up. Sure they are. 😉

Honestly, this post started out more depressing than I meant it to. This site was supposed to be about exploration and reflection—a kind of guidebook. But lately, I feel more like I’m wandering.

Problem Numero Uno

Where do you even begin when you’re staring down unemployment? You start by trying to make yourself attractive again.

But how do you do that when your last chapter ended in someone saying, “Thanks, but no thanks”?

It hits hard. Confidence takes a nosedive. And before you know it, you’re spiraling: rejection, doubt, more rejection.

Don’t let that be you—but it is many of us. We’re peons in the machine, pushed around by people who hold the capital and write the rules. And here’s the truth: the #1 problem isn’t them. It’s your thinking.

We stew. We invent reasons. We chase logic that may or may not be real. But in the end, it doesn’t matter.

It happened. Now it’s time to grind.

First Steps, Baby Steps

Though… maybe they’re not baby steps anymore. I’ve done this before. I’ve rebuilt.

And here’s what I’ve learned:
I’m fucking awesome.

When I care about something, I don’t let it go. I hit the ground running. I iterate. If it’s not right, I tweak it. If the tweak is off, I tweak again. Eventually, my half-baked idea becomes something sharp, polished—solid gold.

This is the essence of the grind:

If you don’t like it, make it into something you do.
Don’t wait for someone else to fix it.
Fix it. And if it’s broken again? Fix that too.

It’s a far cry from where I was two months ago.

So what changed? In part, I had no choice. But mostly—I finally saw myself clearly. Not the version I thought I was (the one with all the negative self-talk), but the real me.

Yes, I eat, sleep, and poop like everyone else. But if that’s all I am, then I am just like everyone else. And I’m not. (And neither are you, if you’re reading this.)

You have gifts, ideas, instincts. But here’s the kicker:
There are already people out there doing what you’re only dreaming about.
And that’s intimidating.

But if you know, you know.
And if it’s hard? Doesn’t matter.
You still do it anyway.

The Epic Rare

My ex-wife, my son, and I have a running joke—an inside reference about Epic Rares. In his world, every loot drop, no matter how small or common, is “Epic Rare.” He lights up every time like he just found Excalibur.

And honestly, that’s what I want now—for life to feel like that.
For every drop—every moment, every opportunity—to be treated like it’s something epically rare. Something that could change everything just by existing in my inventory.

Because maybe that’s what nirvana looks like:

Grinding until your dying day,
and loving every drop as if it were legendary.